


Numbers

by beformista



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Infinity Train AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beformista/pseuds/beformista
Summary: Vetinari and Vimes get on the train in Uberwald and find it quiet difficult to leave.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes
Kudos: 12





	Numbers

Vimes shook his leg to get rid of the small fluffy creature that got stuck to him in the last carriage. He looked at Vetinari who was briskly walking a few steps ahead, leaning on his cane. No creatures were stuck to him, obviously. They were on a beach that seemed to be going for miles, the soft waves of the blue sea coming back and forth with an extremely pleasing sound. It was warm, and Vimes put a hand with a glowing number above his eyes to look at the bright clear sky. 

"Seems peaceful," he murmured.

"Quite so," answered Vetinari. "Reminds me of the beaches in the gulf of Tezuma. Have you ever been?"

"No," said Vimes, catching up to the Patrician. "I've never left Ankh-Morpork before... well, before you started sending me places, I guess."

"Hm. I see." They came to a stop in front of a small table with two chairs inexplicably standing in the middle of the beach. There was a single goblet on it and a note. Vetinari sighed. "Remind me to send you somewhere nice next time." He sat down in one of the chairs. Vimes sighed and followed his example.

"What does it want now?" he asked, rubbing the number on his hand, as the Patrician read the note. He went through four carriages on his own before he found Vetinari, and since then they crossed seventeen more, at much higher pace, because the bastard turned out to be predictably good at solving puzzles. Still, the number on Vimes's hand got stuck at 2163 and refused to change for a while. "And what's your number? You never said." They both dropped the 'sir' about five carriages back when Vimes burst out laughing watching the Patrician get covered in some gelatinous bright yellow liquid. 

"Oh, well, that's easy," muttered Vetinari under his breath. He put the note down and reached for the goblet, but Vimes caught his hand.

"What is it? I don't trust you to just go and do things anymore. That's exactly what's got us into this place!"

They went on a diplomatic mission to Uberwald, which was a tremendously stupid idea in Vimes's opinion: it meant leaving Ankh-Morpork in the hands of Carrot and Von Lipwig. That is to say, he trusted Carrot, of course, but even he couldn't have been expected to handle the resulting level of chaos from the two of them trying to rule the city. Still, it was important, at least according to Vetinari, and so, they went. They stopped just outside the city, to walk around for a bit, to give their legs a little bit of rest, and they started arguing. It seemed, that was all they were capable of doing, lately. Vimes remembers shouting something, and then, there was a loud noise that almost gave him a heart-attack. There was a giant horrible machine with compartments that kept moving behind Vetinari's back, like a black metal infinite snake with no head or tail. Then, it stopped, and Vimes watched as Vetinari's eyes glazed over and he moved towards that beast of the machine.

And here they were.

Vimes reached for the note, his eyes widening, as he read: 'If one wants to leave this place, a sacrifice must be made. The poison must be drained.' He squeezed Vetinari's hand in his harder.

"And you just wanted to drink it?" he half-whispered half-screamed. 

"Well, not particularly," started Vetinari.

"Who gave you the right to make sacrifices here?" Vimes demanded, frowning.

Vetinari sighed and looked at the sea. Vimes felt the hand held tightly by his own relaxing.

"If not for anything else, then I suppose, efficiency gives me the right to sacrifice." Vetinari looked at Vimes and pulled his collar down. "You see, this place believes there's something wrong with me," the glowing numbers on his neck shimmered, almost alive, almost vicious, "which I suppose you are already aware of."

Vimes swallowed the next words that were preparing to leave his mouth, as his mind went temporarily blank and then filled with one sole memory: of Vetinari leaning down, almost hopeful, almost frightening... of his own harsh words.

"Shit. I," Vimes let go of Vetinari's hand, grabbing the goblet himself. Vetinari's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly at the gesture. "I would have said yes. If you asked again, you know."

A soft unsure smile appeared on Vetinari's lips and he moved his head down, as if trying to hide it, the collar of his coat obscuring once again the glowing numbers on his neck. "While I can frankly say these are the first good news in a long time, it doesn't change the fact that if that orb is right and the only way out is to reduce the numbers, I hardly have a chance of leaving."

"No," Vimes cleared his throat. "Fuck this. We're finding our way out. Together." He frowned. "We’ll... talk, if that's what we need to do. You have to come back with me and stop Von Lipwig from destroying our city." He got up, tipped the goblet over, spilling the liquid in it onto the beach. He extended his hand, offering it to Vetinari, and as the dry thin fingers grabbed his, and the poison soaked into the sand, the sea level dropped, untill the water disappeared completely, opening the door on the bottom to their sight.


End file.
